


Dance For Me

by 1d_larryshipper



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dance, F/M, Harry just wants Louis to be happy, Harry works in a tattoo shop, Louis is a dancer, Louis just wants a dance studio but wants to make Harry proud, M/M, Mentions of blow jobs, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, almost no angst, and Louis is really emotional, dance competition, dance injury, just a happy little fic, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, oh and Zayn eats all of Louis yoghurt, slight mention of an eating disorder, they are in love, they have a little kitten, with happy little people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1d_larryshipper/pseuds/1d_larryshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis have known each other all their lives, and they have the perfect relationship. They go to the same university, they share a townhouse, and Louis is one of the top dancers on their school dance performance team. Only problem is that Harry thinks Louis wants to be a professional dancer instead of getting a boring office job, and encourages/works so hard for Louis to live this dream so much that Louis doesn't know how to say no. Bring in the fact that Zayn has been kicked out by his ex-girlfriend and ends up moving in to the townhouse and now he's eating all of Louis special yoghurt and he doesn't even drink tea. Will Louis finally go crazy enough to admit his real dreams to Harry or will he end up dancing for the rest of his life?</p><p>Yah...so I'm really bad at summaries but HarryandLouis are really cute and fluffy, and Harry just wants Louis to live his life as a dancer because he thinks that'll make him happy but really Louis just wants his own studio. Then Zayn moves in and Louis gets upset because the random couch sex is going to have to stop and Zayn does shit like eat Louis' expensive yoghurt. It's cute and fluffy basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for stopping in and reading. I would just like to say that I do not have ANY dance training (unless you count when I was 8 and I took ONE jazz dance class) so some terms may be incorrect. I based Louis' dance comeptition song after this video:
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5yW8a-wH98 
> 
> It's a dance by Dance Precision's to Under Pressure. I understand that Louis is WAY older than these kids so it would be a lot more advanced if this was real life. Thank goodness it isn't :)!
> 
> There will be eventual Ziam!

Louis is so nervous that he can feel his veins pumping a roaring sound in his ears that is making his vision blur. He and his small jazz group from Brightfield’s dance company are next to perform their competition routine for their division in the annual jazz competition. The group ahead of them, La hermosa bailarina, is doing a tribute to Beyonce and honestly Louis might actually start crying if they don’t win this competition. The group is good, but Louis noticed that at least three of the girls haven’t hit their extensions and that the boy’s axel turns were becoming sloppier the more he did.

 

Critiquing the groups ahead of him usually helped calm Louis’ nerves but tonight all he could focus on was the squirming feeling in his stomach. He wants desperately to peak around the curtains and just meet his boyfriend’s eyes so he can breathe straight but knows that it could deduct points from their own routine if a judge catches him being distracting backstage.

 

Dancing isn’t something that he ended up meaning to take so seriously. His mother had put him in classes when he was three to, “help release some energy,” because he was so enthusiastic about everything but he had ended up doing so well he had stuck with it. Growing up it had been a passion and everyday after dance class he had come home to his best friend (and now boyfriend) to show off his impressive routines.

 

When they had gotten old enough, they had both decided to attend the same university where Harry studies music and literature, unsure of what he wanted to do in the future, for school while Louis studies business. He had thought about drama, and considered becoming a teacher, but ever since he was seven or eight the only dream he _really_ had was to someday open his own dance studio. He hoped that if he got a degree in business it would help him to someday achieve his dreams.

 

Now, he and Harry live in a townhouse in downtown London issued by their university so they could have it for a cheaper price. Louis had joined the dance company there and Harry came to _every_ competition that they had, much like he had when they were younger. They might only be twenty-one but Louis knows that when uni is over that he and Harry will be married, adopt a few kids, and move into a big home with their cat Ferguson.

 

Harry had always been extremely supportive of Louis dancing and pushed him more than even his own teachers had. For the past month and a half he had been sending in letters to one of the casting directors for dancers from a company in West End so they could see Louis’ dancing and hopefully find him a spot on stage. Louis had mentioned once, very briefly, when they were fifteen that he would love to dance on stage. He hadn’t really put much thought about it because, 1. They were both drunk and 2. The _dance studio_ was a much bigger dream than stage dancing. But, Harry being the most amazing, wonderful, supportive boyfriend had made it his own life’s mission to get Louis on stage.

 

So, fifty or so letters’ later a casting director had responded back and agreed to come watch Louis dance in this particular jazz company. Before, his dancing had been for sheer enjoyment and the thrill that he got every time he lifted through the air but tonight there was the added pressure of someone coming to watch him for something as big as West End, _for Christ’s sakes._

 

Louis deeply wanted to confess to Harry that he hadn’t really meant it all those years ago but he couldn’t stop the guilt from creeping into his stomach every time he went to say something. Harry gave up a lot so Louis could dance, worked extra shifts to cover rent and buy Louis his expensive yoghurts and granola’s _plus_ he had written all those letter’s just because he thought it would make Louis happy. So, he was going to dance his heart out and land himself an audition because Louis felt his sole purpose in life since he was seven-years-old was to make his boy proud.

 

The lights dim and Louis can hear the cheering from the crowd indicating that La Hermosa Bailarina was finished and they would be up next. Gavin Degraw blasts through the speakers as men dressed in all black rush onto stage and wheel on three standing platforms and a desk with a rolling chair. He turns to Eleanor, a very pretty girl who had become one of his closest friends, and quickly takes her hand.

 

“Love you,” She tells him smiling, “No matter what you know he’s going to be proud.” As they had been stretching backstage Louis had confessed everything to Eleanor (who had already heard it a million times anyways) and she’d made her mission of the night to help him relax.

 

“I just want to do well,” He says and he adjusts his braces so that they are lose enough for his arms to move but won’t fall down and she just shakes her head.

 

“You always do well,” She says but then the lights dim and she and the rest of the girls all slink out in stage and place themselves behind the platforms and under the desk. Louis closes his eyes and then turns on what he likes to call his performing brain, where he does nothing but just live in that exact moment, focusing on what’s happening right then and holds his head high as he walks to the chair hardly listening to their announcement.

 

Once he’s settled in the seat he can hear the beginning bass of the song, and he plasters on a smile and dances.

 

***

He nails every single one of his turns, flips, and he and the girls are ecstatic as they rush off the stage with their show make-up sweating. As they walk down the stairs and are back out in the hallway so they can take their seats in the audience to watch the rest of the competition, Louis is met with a tall, gangly, boy with his curls tied up in a bandana and a ripped plaid shirt adorning his long, tattoo’ed torso.

 

Louis’ adrenaline is still pumping through him so he lets out a squeal that he only makes after performing and runs at Harry who is standing with his arms wide open for him. Harry scoops him up the second Louis smacks into him wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and their lips meet for only a split second before Louis is away talking.

 

“Did you see it? How was I? Did you think that my turns were to fast? What about my flip that I did towards the end, I was worried that I didn’t point my toes enough so it looked a bit choppy,” He’s still dangling in Harry’s long embrace and Harry just smiles at him as he sets Louis down so his toes are touching the ground but doesn’t release his death grip from Louis’ waist.

 

“Love, you were absolutely brilliant. The best I’ve ever seen you dance, I can’t think of a single mistake that you could have possibly made. All of it was so good!” Harry kisses him again and Louis is buzzing with excitement. A person clearing their throat startles both of them out of their lip-lock and Louis jumps back blushing when he sees a woman in a dark pantsuit and a twisted bun hovering nearby.

 

“Mr. Tomlinson?” She asks him and her voice is clipped with professionalism but her eyes are warm which help his heart rate calm.

 

“Yea…that’s me,” He holds out a hand to her which she takes primly in her own and gives it a squeeze.

 

“My name is Janette Bernard and I’m the casting director for Billy Elliot. I’ve had lots of letters sent in asking me to come watch you dance.” Both he and Harry blush at that, and Harry gives her a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head and looking off to the side. “I just wanted to let you know that I was very impressed with what I saw. We’re having auditions for new cast members to join us and I’d love for you to give us an audition?” She looks hopefully at him and then begins to rummage in her purse for a card which she pulls out and offers to him.

 

He immediately snatches the card up and his eyes brim with tears as he murmurs at her, “Ms. Bernard…I…I don’t know what to say…” His throat closes up and he’s scared he might actually start crying but Harry places a warm hand on his back.

 

“Well, I’m hoping that you say yes?” She laughs when he nods his head like a dog and a couple tears actually spill over at how overwhelmed he is feeling. “Brilliant!” She clasps her hands together, “I have all your information thanks to the letters so I’ll have someone getting into contact with you shortly to discuss any details. Hope to see you soon, Louis.” With that she offers her hand out once again and he shakes it then watches as she makes her way down the hallway to the doors and out of the building.

 

“Holy shit,” Louis chokes out looking down that the small, cardstock paper with her information written in shiny, silver ink. “Holy fucking… _Haz._ ” He grips Harry’s wrist and Harry is smiling so hard that his cheeks must be in pain.

 

“Baby,” He hugs Louis again as Louis starts shaking and presses his face into Harry’s neck to calm his nerves, “I’m so proud of you. Doing what you always dreamed…I told you that you could do it.” Louis bites back his response and just nods along with what Harry is saying. There is absolutely no way that he could back down now.

 

“Thank you…” Louis breathes, “I can’t thank you enough. You’re the best, the most amazing boyfriend anyone could ever have.” He leans up to peck Harry a couple more times on the lips and Harry shakes his head.

 

“Nah, that’s definitely you,” He teases, “Come on now, love, you’ve got to go back out there for the last few performances. Niall is saving our seats for us and I brought you a surprise.” Louis already knows his surprise is going to be a bouquet of red roses, the same flowers Harry had been bringing him since they were five and Louis did his first competition but he still acts surprised every time Harry hands them to him.

 

Together, they enter the auditorium again and find Niall in the back next to a few of the dancers in Louis’ company named Jess and Danielle, and Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes knowing that their friend and neighbor has turned on all the charm he has in hopes to impress the girls.

 

Harry slides into his seat, and then Louis slots in next to him ending up next to Liam one of the only other male dancers in his company. Liam wasn’t in the small jazz group dance, as it had been an audition piece and Louis had beat him out but Liam harbored no hard feelings towards the boy. The two of them had met the first dance of auditions for their company and had hit it off with the mutual understanding that while Louis was the brilliant jazz dancer; Liam could show him up in any ballet competition.

 

“You did really well, mate.” Liam says to him smiling and Louis gives him a side armed hug with the arm that isn’t being occupied by Harry tickling his fingers up in down in a comforting motion.

 

“Thank you,” He whispers at him, “I talked to the women from the company from Billy Elliot,” Liam gives him a sharp look and Louis twists his mouth to suppress a laugh that threatens to bubble over. “She wants me to audition…” Liam clasps a hand over his mouth and then twists his body uncomfortably in his seat to grab Louis and hug him tightly, causing Louis to break connection with Harry who side eyes Liam with an annoyed glare and moves his hand to rub Louis’ thigh.

 

“Holy fuck, that’s bloody brilliant. I can’t believe it!” Liam whisper shouts in his ear and Louis lets out a giggle and gives Liam’s shoulders a squeeze before pulling away.

 

“I know! Harry set it all up; I didn’t even know she was coming until yesterday. The bastard didn’t want me focusing on it, it’s lucky I even managed to do it at all without preparing for someone like _that_ to be here.” He pulls away from Liam and turns to give Harry a soft smile that is only ever meant for Harry and Harry returns it before stealing a kiss. “I love you,” Louis whispers pulling back slightly to murmur the words, “Love, love, love, just absolutely loveyou.”

 

“Love you more,” Harry whispers back to him and Louis can’t help but smile.

 

**

They end up placing first in the competition and they each get an individual ribbon and small trophies to take home, and Harry insists on carrying them plus Louis’ dance bag as they make their way to his ancient ’94 cleo. “So I’ve got something I’ve kind of wanted to talk to you about,” Harry says after tucking Louis into the passenger seat and they begin to cruise out of the parking lot.

 

“Hmm?” Louis turns away from the text message he had been sending to his mum to let her know how everything had gone. “Everything okay, lovely?” He reaches a hand out to squeeze Harry’s thigh and Harry risks taking his eyes off the road to give him a comforting stare.

 

“Yeah, everything is perfect…it’s just…I’ve got this mate in my English class who’s really hard up right now. Apparently he and his girlfriend had a huge fight and she’s gone completely mental and wants to kick him out. He only has a few days to find a place to live and I said I would talk to you about him maybe crashing with us for a little?” Louis shifts awkwardly in his seat, not wanting to say no but not jumping on the chance to say yes either.

 

He loves their domesticated lifestyle together, with Harry waking him up in bed every morning with fresh fruit and homemade parfaits, and the fact that they can have sex on the couch and the dining room table whenever because it’s just them there. “You don’t have to say yes just yet,” Harry continues sensing Louis’ lack of enthusiasm, “I said he could come over for dinner tomorrow night and you two could meet and we could show him around and see where we can go from there. Whaddya say to that?” Harry is nervous, Louis can tell by the way that he’s sucking on his lower lip and steadily ignoring Louis’ gaze on his face.

 

“Well, it can’t hurt to meet him…”  Louis drawls, “What’s his name?”

 

“Zayn, he’s twenty and a double major in English and art. He wants to design comic books when he graduates. You should see some of the work he’s done, it’s really impressive and I know you’d like it.” Louis nods and tries to wrack his brain to see if he knew anyone by the name of Zayn. Sadly, nothing comes to mind and really Louis isn’t surprised because outside of Harry and his dance friends, Niall is the only other person at university that Louis had actually become friends with.

 

He knew a lot of Harry’s weird, hipster, friends from the tattoo shop that he worked reception at but none of them Louis would ever call friends besides the owner’s wife Lou and that was only because she and her daughter Lux were always over. “Alright, sounds fair. I promise to give him the benefit of the doubt.” Harry cheers and they pull up into their driveway. As Louis puts his hand on the door to step out of the car he stops and says, “But Haz, if he does end up staying he has to go out often so that our couch sex stays uninterrupted.” Harry let’s out a bark of laughter doubling over in his seat, and Louis huffs before grabbing his bag and making his way up their outer stairs to the red painted front door. “I’m not joking!” He calls down at Harry who locks up the car down and jogs up the flight of stairs and presses his lips to Louis’ cheek.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that, love,” Harry reaches around Louis to twist his keys into the lock with a jangle and open the door to their townhouse, ushering Louis out from the chilly September air and into the warm entrance hall. Their townhouse is small, really only split leveled with the entrance hall and storage closet being the first level with two stairs to the right to lead up into the kitchen, dining, and living rooms and then two stairs straight ahead that lead to two bedrooms and the hall bathroom. Harry flicks on the lights that sit right by the door and turns off their porch light and lights up the entrance.

 

Harry takes both their coats and opens up the storage closet that Louis tried to insist was completely over obsessive because all the coats were lined orderly, and on each end of the pole hung two separate, foldable attached cubes that held hats on the top level, scarves on the one below that, mittens, gloves just under the scarves, and then on the bottom level were folded sweaters. The navy blue one had Harry monogrammed in white stitching along the top brim while the Kelly green one said Louis in white stitching and below each, on the floor, were matching foldable bins that held their shoes. In the middle between the two shoe bins was a plain gray one that held all the guests shoes when they came to visit.

 

Louis tsks as Harry arranges their coats so they fit in the proper color scheme and drops his and Harry’s keys into the bowl sitting on the black table they have right by the door, checking how matted his hair was in the mirror that hung directly above. “You look lovely,” Harry tells him and then takes the flowers from Louis’ hands and grabs the vase that sets on the table and walks up to the kitchen. Louis runs his fingers through his quiff a few times, trying to make it stand up on end and then chassés  over to where the wall turns into a banister just low enough that if Louis stands up on tip-toes he can peak his head through and watch Harry putter around in their kitchen.

 

Harry insists that the kitchen is what sold him on the entire place when they were looking at places to rent. The floor is tiled black and white, and the walls are painted white (just like the rest of the house) but the counters are black marble top and stained mahogany wood with sterling silver handles. There isn’t much room, with just a black refrigerator and matching stove, and a few counter tops that are lined with various appliances like a coffee machine (Louis had protested for ages about it but Harry insisted that he wanted to drink coffee), a microwave, a microwave oven, and a bread basket.

 

Louis does have to admit that he does love the cast iron ceiling lamp that hangs over the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, and the that Harry has decorated near the sink with fake checkered blue and white curtains (even though it’s just a wall and no window) and a little pot of sunflowers that match a larger pot of sunflowers sitting on the black Ikea table with a glass top and matching chairs that are white cushioned on the seat. He especially loves the fact that Harry oversets the table at each chair with navy blue napkins settled on large, white plates.

 

He also, albeit secretly, enjoys the fact that Harry labeled all the cabinets and their drawers so he knows where to put things when he’s unloading the dishwasher and attempting to be helpful.

 

Harry is at the sink, having finished filling the vase with water, and leans over the banister where Louis is still blinking through smiling at him. “Put this on the table then?” He hands Louis the roses that are now inside the blue vase and Louis presses his face against the soft petals, breathing in the smell.

 

“I love them,” Louis says happily and sets them down. “Might love these more than I love you!” He teases up over his shoulder at Harry who sounds like he’s putting the kettle on.

 

“Oi, keep that up and I won’t give you any tea!” He calls back down to Louis who gasps indignantly.

 

“You’d never!” He grabs his dance bag off the hall rug where he’d just dropped it and brings it up to their living room to drop onto the fluffy black arm chair. He sees their orange tabby kitten, Ferguson, curled up on the black sofa that lines the wall and coos at him. “Hi little baby,” he uses one hand to scoop Ferguson up and presses a few kisses against the fluffy head. He rubs his face against Ferguson for a few minutes, enjoying the way the kittens little belly raises up with each breathe he takes.

 

The kitten lazily peaks open a blue eye at him and gives a tiny mewl that Louis repeats back to him, causing Harry to roll his eyes as he walks over to them and sets Louis steaming mug of tea onto a coaster resting on the glass coffee table in front of them. He reaches into the middle purple basket that they keep on the lower level of the coffee table and pulls out a remote to flick on the TV. They kept their TV in a shelving unit provided by Louis’ granddad that he had stained himself as a house warming gift. It had a large section to fit their TV and then a small section underneath for the cable box and the VCR/DVD combo. The rest was filled nicely with books, a few fake plants, some of Louis’ dance trophies and loads of framed photos of them taken throughout the year.

 

One of Louis’ favorites is the one of them taken on holiday, done professionally by a friend, where Harry is lifting Louis up in the air while Louis kicks his legs back and they kiss under the sunset next to the beach. He had taken it and got it printed onto a canvas for Harry’s nineteenth birthday and they’d hung it in the entrance hall, on the empty wall space right across from the mirror. It caught Louis’ eyes every time he went to fix his hair before going out and made his heart swell with pride about how beautiful it was.

 

“Thanks for the tea,” Louis smiles and settles a sleepy Ferguson into his lap, glad that he had changed into joggers and a lemon colored Brightfield crew neck sweatshirt after the show was done. He leans forward and grabs his mug, blowing lightly before taking a sip and mm’ing at the taste.

 

“Can’t believe you don’t put any sugar in it,” Harry mumbles and takes a sip of his own. Both their mugs say his with large hearts, Harry’s in blue and Louis’ in green. They had been a gag gift given by Harry’s sister Gemma when they’d first moved in.

“Sugar ruins the taste,” Louis reprimands him, “I’ve told you loads of times. You shouldn’t even be drinking tea if you’re going to load it up with sugar.” Harry laughs and pulls Louis into his side, settling him against his chest and Harry leans himself against one of the large purple throw pillow and snags the cream blanket hung over the back of the couch to tuck around their sides, making sure that Ferguson’s face was still peaking out.

 

“Do you think that Annabelle is going to be voted off?” Louis questions after a few minutes, his eyes glued to the Big Brother episode playing on the screen.

 

“Hope so, she’s a complete bitch. She sold out Gerald and La’taya.” Louis nods his asset and feels his eyelids beginning to droop.

 

“I’m really sleepy,” He mumbles and Harry takes the mug from Louis’ hands to set it back onto the coffee table. He reaches over to the lamp closest to his right, tall and skinny, and turns the button so it’s at its lowest setting. He can’t reach the small version of the lamp setting on the end table to Louis side of the couch but he has a feeling his boyfriend doesn’t much care, judging from the even puffs of breath he can feel against his throat.

 

“Sleep for a little bit,” Harry tangles his fingers into Louis hair and strokes soothingly as Louis hand mirrors his hands in Ferguson’s fur. “I’ll wake you up when this is over and we can take a bath and head to bed.”

 

“Bath tomorrow,” Louis mumbles sleepily, his skin prickling with tired as he lingers in and out of consciousness.

 

“Yeah right,” Harry mumbles, “You’d kill me if I let you skip soaking in the bath tonight. Know your muscles are going to be sore.” But Louis barely hears him as he drifts to sleep.

 

**

 

Sunday mornings are Louis’ favorite because he gets to lie in bed for as long as he’d like, snuggled up under Harry’s strong embrace. It’s the only day they don’t get up and do a joint run together, choosing to usually have lazy morning sex. It’s hard for them to have sex often, with Louis preferring to bottom and both are afraid that they might get to carried away and end up with Louis being really sore.

 

They are a very physical couple though, and the lack of actual penetration rarely stops them from mutual masturbation, blowjobs, and sometimes the quick grind of their cocks against each other if they are in a hurry to get off. But, Louis loves Sundays because it means that he can wake Harry up with a lazy blowjob with a promise of more than just a few fingers and a blowjob in return.

 

Louis wakes up to the light streaming through the sheer curtains they have to cover the huge bay windows in their room, and he curls himself further down in the goose feathered duvet. He reaches a hand for the spot next to him and finds Harry immediately stretched out on his stomach with one hand lazily thrown over Louis’ naked hips (he was to lazy after their bath last night to do anything but lay his aching body down and go back to sleep again). Louis dances his fingers down the expanse of Harry’s milky back, tracing over the few splatters of freckles and dipping into the dimples right above his tiny bum, which Louis cups and then pinches, giggling when Harry grumbles and his face scrunches as he turns sharply into his pillow.

 

“Lou,” He groans, his deep morning voice causing Louis’ cock to perk up in interest, already half hard from his typical morning wood.

 

“Hi,” Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s ear and Harry pulls him closer, tucking Louis back under his chin.

 

“Go back to sleep, baby,” He mumbles, “It’s early.” Louis is positive that Harry has no idea what time it is, the alarm clock on his nightstand reading 9:04 am, and Louis whines at him but settles as Harry tickles his hand up and down Louis’ side.

 

“Not sleepy,” Because he really isn’t. He usually gets up at 6 to run with Harry and then on Mondays through Thursdays he goes to an early morning dance practice before coming back for a quick breakfast and running off to class. Harry, no matter how early he’s up during the week, manages to sleep until noon if his boyfriend will let him.

 

“M’sleepy,” Harry grumbles into his hair but he’s move his hand from where he was stroking Louis side to stroke down his stomach, causing Louis’ abs to tense and the tip of his cock to brush up against Harry’s knuckles leaving Louis hissing through his teeth.

 

“Can sleep later,” Louis says to him and cups Harry’s jaw to bring their lips together, ignoring their morning breath and kissing him deeply. Harry runs a finger tip up the length of Louis hard cock, pulling back the foreskin to tease the head which has Louis grunting and shift his hips up trying to chase the friction. “Haz,” He whines to him and Harry shushes him with another kiss and shifts himself so he’s covering Louis and their hips are aligned. He rocks against him, their cocks rubbing against each other and Louis keens, tossing his head to the side so Harry can kiss up and down his neck.

 

“So sexy,” Harry nips his ear and pants heavily in it, his hips working quicker and Louis knows that Harry is getting close. “G-god, Lou,” He stutters, “M’close.” And he nips hard against Louis’ earlobe which has Louis whining.

 

“Want you to fuck me,” He tells Harry breathlessly, “Please?” He opens his eyes and bats his lashes, only to find his boyfriend is staring down at him intensely-the green of his eyes hidden by how widely blown his pupils are. Louis knows him begging to be fucked always riles Harry up and Harry is nodding as he pulls away, kissing Louis a few times when he whines at the loss of friction as Harry grabs the lube that they always have sitting out on Harry’s night table.

 

Harry quickly uncaps the bottle as Louis spreads his legs and coats his pointer and middle finger, wasting no time sliding up under Louis’ balls and circling the puckered rim of his hole while Louis gasps and tilts his hips up for Harry.

 

“Harry,” He whines and Harry soothes a hand against Louis’ stomach as he slowly pushes one finger in, groaning to himself as he feels the tight heat clench around his finger. Harry hunches over and kisses Louis again, licking at his lips until Louis parts his mouth so Harry can slide his tongue in right as he slips in a second finger. He scissors his fingers, being sure to coat the lube around so that Louis will be slick enough for him to enter, and once he’s sure that he’s stretched his boy enough Harry slides in a third finger.

 

Louis cries up, his hips canting up and then grinding back down as Harry crooks his fingers and presses up against Louis’ prostate. All Louis can feel is a white, hot, burning in his lower belly and he’s spread so wide that his dance instructor would applaud him.

 

“Harry, _please,_ ” He sobs, “Want you. I’m ready, I need you in me I’m _so_ ready.” Harry quickly retracts his fingers and pulls away from Louis’ lips and grabs the lube squeezing some into his palm before hissing as he rubs the cool liquid up and down his shaft once, whining as he tugs on his foreskin and pulls it back to expose the head. “Harry,” Louis cracks an eye open and watches with a slack jaw as his boyfriend rubs at the slit and draws out a few drops of pre-cum.

 

“S-sorry,” Harry fucks once more into his hand and then he’s gripping the base of his cock and lining himself up with Louis’ hips. He sinks in slowly, stopping when Louis screws his face up in discomfort and using his slicked hand to work up and down Louis’ softening prick until he bottoms out and Louis is fully hard again. “Ugh, so tight sweetheart,” Harry moans out and buries his face in the crook of Louis’ neck and presses his lips up and down the side of Louis face, breathing harshly as he tries to still his hips.

 

Louis whimpers at the feeling of being so full, loving the pulse and the drag he can feel deep inside and he arches himself up to rub back down against Harry who is rubbing his hips, probably unbeknownst, gently against Louis bum. “Move,” Louis says and digs his hands into Harry’s shoulders and wraps his legs around Harry’s waist as Harry pulls part of the way out and then slides back in. They settle into an easy rhythm of Harry being careful not to go to rough lest he make Louis sore for his practices tomorrow but hard enough that he has Louis writhing underneath him.

 

As Harry twists his hips, however, Louis let’s out a sharp cry and then a dry sob and Harry immediately repeats the motion watching as Louis jaw drops and only hot pants are released against Harry’s cheek before Louis moaning, “Harry there, oh God, right there, please, more, more, more,” Louis feels hot tears brim in his eyes as Harry pounds into his spot, pressing up against it harder each time. Suddenly, Harry pulls all the way out and Louis is about to start protesting but then his legs are thrown over Harry’s shoulder and this is his _very_ favorite position because it rubs Harry’s cock against his prostate so nicely.

 

Louis tosses his hands over his head as he’s literally bent in half, Harry’s stomach rubbing against his hard and leaking cock and Louis grips the slates in the headboard to hang on and just let Harry fuck him until he’s cumming. His blood is boiling, his cheeks and chest are flushed red and he can feel the pulling sensation knowing that he’s getting closer and closer, “M’gonna…” Harry growls and nips at Louis’ lips, tugging sharply at the bottom one with a particularly exotic twist of his hips and Louis is cumming, white, hot, goo actually getting airborne and then landing up on his stomach, in between his nipples, and under his chin.

 

It’s only a few more thrusts before he can feel Harry pulling out and then tugging roughly on his own cock as Louis lazily wipes his fingers through the cum on his belly and licks his finger tips and then Harry is cumming all over Louis’ stomach as well. Harry collapses against Louis, the two of them panting harshly and Louis can feel the cum starting to roll down his sides and he makes an annoyed sound that has Harry up and going to their attached bathroom to get him a flannel.

 

Harry wipes him clean of all the mess; and then he spreads Louis legs, nipping at his knee to get Louis to stop blushing as he wipes between his cheeks to clean up the lube that is leaking out. Once Louis is as clean as he can get without a shower, and Harry’s wiped down his own cock for any leftover of lube or cum, they curl back up in the bed the alarm now reading 9:35 am.

 

“Sleep till noon?” Harry asks and brushes Louis flattened fringe from his sweaty forehead. Louis just nods his head and curls up in a half moon, intertwining his legs with his boyfriend and curling one arm over Harry’s hips as Harry wraps an arm around his shoulder. “I love you, boobear,” Harry mumbles in his hair and Louis smiles delicately against Harry’s collarbones, lips and teeth pressed to the birds that Harry had gotten to represent them. He acted like he hated the name but when Harry called him it, it made Louis’ stomach twist in those knots that had him smiling for hours.

 

“I love you, sunshine,” He says back to Harry, giddy with the use of their pet names for each other. He closes his eyes and within in minutes their breathing is synched as they fall back asleep.

 

**

**Author's Note:**

> I'll post the next part up really soon, I absolutely promise. They'll meet Zayn in the next chapter and he'll move in with them and everything. Please remember to leave comments/criticisms.


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